


For Me

by Hambone



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Mild Prolapse, Monsters, Other, Oviposition, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 18:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19025965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: Pate let's Creighton get himself into a mess and then helps him out of it. In a manner of speaking.





	For Me

**Author's Note:**

> WOO This one's REAL messy and visceral so head's up! I haven't done ovi in a while but I'm quite proud of this. It was hard trying to work the details of their relationship in amongst the porn here but I hope they both came across well. 
> 
> Enjoy!

    The Black Gulch was a hellish landscape - what could be seen of it at least. Whatever beings had made it their home long ago had left the place in a mess of sludge and mold amidst the statuary. Pate recognized the shapes from Majula, but had discovered rather quickly that these were carved with a sadistic purpose unlike their above-ground counterparts, which became quite the hassle as they descended further. He had to admire the craftsmanship of such a loathsome trap.

    Creighton was little help as well, reduced to cowering behind Pate and his superior shield like a whipped pup after the first statue he’d looked at spat venom in his face. Luckily for him his travelling companion was never unprepared, but his eyesight was still somewhat fogged and he refused to let either of them forget about it, snapping and snarling every time he so much as brushed against Pate’s shoulder and accusing him of attempts on his life. Really, had Pate wanted to, it would have been easy to tip the idiot off the rock shelf and into the yawning canyon below, but while the idea of his betrayed expression left a sweet tingle along the spine Pate much preferred the fear he could hear spike in Creighton’s tone every time he walked too far ahead and lost him in the blackness.

    “Would it help you to hold on to my skirt hem?” he cooed. Creighton growled, hunched over his axe with both hands as if it too would leave him should he let it.

    “Shut it, or I’ll shut it for ya!”

    His eyes were darting around, near blind. Pate couldn’t imagine how it must feel knowing any misstep could send him plummeting to a clear fate. He licked his lips.

    “I’m only trying to keep your current state in consideration,” he said, eyes back on the path ahead as something in the darkness stirred. “It would be such a shame for you to leave me all alone here, after I’ve dragged you this far.”

    “Dragged?” Creighton snorted, but his voice was uneasy. “You wouldn’a made it half this far without me, an don’t you forget it.”

    What he had heard appeared to be a large pool of something black and thick in the road, swirling as whatever was inside turned. Probably best to just avoid it.

    “Perhaps your brutish muscle did make the journey easier on occasion,” he conceded lightly, almost as if he meant it, “but must I keep reminding you that I’ve made the same one myself countless times?”

    Creighton didn’t say anything, and Pate would have thought he’d really gone over the edge if he couldn’t hear his nervous shuffling behind. He had no sense to move quietly and his chainmail clashing echoed loudly with every step. The black pool rippled.

    “Really, I do believe you had some worth as a knight back in Mirrah,” he said, carefully pulling himself to the wall to step behind the statuary lining this section of the path, “but you’d do well to remember your place here.”

    He’d lost Pate a moment and shook his head from side to side before following the sound and nearly crashing into the wall beside him.

    “Don’t laugh at me, ya bastard, or I’ll make mincemeat out of ya!”

    It was difficult to find his words menacing as he huddled to the stone cliff side, clutching his axe to his chest, knees practically knocking beneath his dress. Pate wanted to reach out and tug his hair, or perhaps push him into the pool, just to see what would happen. It was so hard to resist bullying him.

    “I’ll cut you up,” he was mumbling as they continued to shift, “mark my words, if you front on me, thinkin’ you’re better, I’ll bleed ya.”

    “I’m sure,” said Pate, successfully circumnavigating the small hiccup in their decent. Creighton stuck to his threats like a security blanket, hissing and spitting into his mask for the next several minutes as the road became thinner and duller around them. Here and there Pate could see glowing strips of damp looking moss and leaf, and in the dark creatures called softly, but it was, excusing the deadly architecture, a relatively smooth trek.

    He and his companion had been together, on and off, for a very long time now, but Pate had not been exaggerating when he spoke of his travels around Drangleic proper. While he had spent years learning the ins and outs of the land, Creighton was a relative newcomer who spent most of his time alone meandering around without direction. You did not survive in this world long without understanding it, and he was quite sure in his assertion that Creighton did not understand anything at all. For a man with such a record nipping at his heels Creighton was surprisingly dumb. Pate suspected that much of his success in his past exploits was pure luck and incompetence on the end of his pursuers. Though he boasted of the crimes he had committed, once he felt sure Pate would not chastise him for it, never once did he claim brilliance in his escape from the law. It was rather endearing how lacking in self-awareness he was, and Pate quickly found himself intrigued. Not by Creighton himself, but by the opportunity he represented.

    Creighton did not know it but he craved structure. He’d rejected Pate’s initial advances, biting at his welcoming fingers like a scared dog, but every time they found themselves in the same place he gravitated towards Pate’s guidance. He would moan and complain about everything, furious when Pate would take control of a situation, as if he had a better idea himself, but inevitably he would be brought to heel without even realizing it. It was a delicate game to play, certainly, for people like Creighton had no ability to evaluate their standing and if he pushed his luck too far he would be dead. Beasts of very little brain had the tendency to fixate their attentions, and without the capacity to learn they could not forgive. A firm but gentle hand was needed.

    They stopped on the edge of a short drop, perhaps five or six feet. It would have been easy to jump, but there were more of those black pools below, with no way to avoid them this time. Pate dropped to a crouch, listening.

    “What are you doing?”

    Creighton’s voice rang out loudly as he stumbled into Pate from behind, nearly knocking them both down the side.

    “Sizing the field,” Pate replied shortly, only annoyed by his own involvement in danger by proxy. There didn’t seem to be much down here to hear them, but it always paid to err on the side of caution. Creighton located his voice’s shift in elevation and crouched himself, knocking the handle of his axe against Pate’s back several times in the process.

    “What’s down there?”

    “I don’t know yet,” said Pate lightly, but through his teeth. Creighton’s indelicacy had not killed them yet, but it would if he continued. The pools below had indeed begun to churn slightly as his movements echoed across them. Perhaps it was time to see what lay beneath. Taking a pebble from the path, Pate aimed.

    The splash as it hit its mark was drowned out entirely by the immediate burst of a creature from within the pool. It was such an inky black that for a moment Pate assumed the liquid itself had taken form, but then it began to twist and chitter and he realized it was indeed a living thing. Like a large and velvet hand it crawled out, trying to locate what had disturbed it, and then it reared back snakelike to observe its immediate surroundings. Creighton could hear but not see it, and he leaned in so close to Pate’s side trying that he could smell his breath filter through his mask.

    “What is it?”

    “That’s what I’m trying to ascertain.”

    Since there was no shortage of ammunition, Pate loosed another pebble, this time to the earth beside the pool. The beast turned to the sound instantly, throwing itself down over the noise with a wet slap. It seemed disappointed to find nothing but rocks. The sound, however, was enough to set the other pools aquiver, and soon enough four more of the creatures peeked above their oily surface, curious.

    The situation could have been worse. Though they seemed to possess a set of nasty teeth they were slow, and the damage Pate could see done by their slithering appendages seemed negligible in face of his shield. In fact, it was doubtful they’d manage to touch him if he were quick enough. The way across the ledge was a straight one, and with their sound sensitivity he’d likely be able to cause an easy distraction to give him a head start.

    “What’s takin’ so long?”

    Him, but not Creighton. The outburst immediately drew the attention of the things, all of which but the ones closest to them slithering from their pools towards the sound. It was not an aggressive motion, not yet at least, but certainly one that held the promise of it. Their twisting stumps of tentacles pointed towards their little cliff, listening. Pate gave Creighton a look he couldn’t see.

    “I’m trying to ensure we don’t lose our heads, that’s what.”

    Like the witless fool he was, Creighton shoved lightly against his back and grumbled.

    “What is it,” he said again. Pate breathed deeply through his nose.

    “Leeches, I suppose.” He squinted at them. “Something like that, at least.”

    Creighton huffed.

    “An you’re just hiding up here?”

    “Not hiding, planning.”

    While he was never patient, being at a disadvantage had removed any tact Creighton had possessed. Neither had rested in quite a while, and he was anxious to find a hole to curl up in and wait the rest of his stinging blindness out. Pate could see a bit more focus in his eyes now, but not much, and Creighton still squinted leerily at the forms below them.

    “Tellin’ me you’re better than I am, but you’re afraid of a few worms.”

    Pate looked at him.

    “And what would you have me do, hm?”

    He could see Creighton’s nerves beginning to boil over. While he hadn’t wanted a fight, from his positon it wouldn’t be hard to pick the creatures off one by one with his polearm should things get nasty. Perhaps he should let his dog off the leash.

    “Kill ‘em, obviously.”

    Creighton finally lifted a hand from his axe to thumb at his eye, wiping off a bit of white crust.

    “I could kill ‘em all easy.”

    “Then why don’t you?”

    Pate rarely outright conceded to his complaints, and the question struck Creighton quiet for a moment. Pate sat back on his haunches and waved a hand to the drop.

    “Have at it, mighty warrior, but don’t come crying to me when you fall.”

    The realization dawned in Creighton’s eyes.

    “You’re callin’ my bluff, huh? Think I can’t?”

    “I never said those exact words.”

    Pate smiled sweetly and Creighton snarled.

    “I’ll show you, rat bastard, just watch!”

    With that he tumbled into the fray blade first. Pate was actually a bit in awe despite himself at his companion’s sheer stupidity. Blind and wild, Creighton landed on his knees, rolling through the muck, and swung his axe out haphazardly. The end caught one of the creatures across the front, but only just, and it retaliated with a lurch in his direction. While stupid, Creighton was skilled, and he used its own momentum against it by turning the blade outwards and catching its flexing mandibles full on. Thick dark blood spurted out across his mask, the teeth of the thing trying fruitlessly to catch the steel and impede its progress. By feel more than sight Creighton swung again, hard, and the axe head cut clean through the beast’s body.

    With a thud the top half of what passed as the creature’s head dropped behind it, the body falling forward into Creighton’s chest. He kicked it back and stumbled through the blood, finding his sandals clung to the ground. Neither half of the thing stopped flailing after being severed, but the movement was uncoordinated death. With a barking laugh Creighton turned and swung again to his left, hitting nothing and being almost pulled into a pool by the force of his effort. The others had converged around him now, just out of range, swaying to and fro between the crude waves of his weapon.

    It was over quickly. He’d had his one win and now they were alert to the danger he posed. Pate had his own spear at his side, because fun was fun but he wasn’t keen on losing his pet so pointlessly, but he did not yet act. As Creighton jabbed at nothing before him, one of the creatures launched itself from the ground like a spring and hit him dead on the back. Creighton cried out as the force emptied his lungs and hit the ground hand and knee. During his fall the thing had closed on him like a fist and now it was curling the longer trunk of its body about his leg. He’d braced himself on his palms and still held his axe, but Creighton tried and failed to lift it several times as the creature thrashed him.

    Roaring, Creighton gave up on his weapon and began tearing at the soft flesh around his midsection with his fingers. Pate could hear it catch and rip on the chainmail but the beast was deterred not, squeezing itself around Creighton’s right thigh. The others had encircled him, eager for the kill.

    “You need help there, friend?”

    With the noise Creighton was making Pate wasn’t terribly concerned about drawing attention to himself.

_“Gerroff me!”_

    Whatever else he had to say was cut off by a strange and garbled gasp. Pate couldn’t quite see, but the thing on his back was moving again, its teeth clicking together against his armor. Creighton didn’t seem to be hurting any though, so he held back yet.

    “I thought this would be easy for you.”

    “Get bent!”

    It couldn’t have been that bad if he was still invested in giving lip. Pate sat back now, spear in his lap, and watched comfortably.

    “I’m so glad you’ve taken this opportunity to show me how lost I’d have been without your help. Really, you’ve opened my eyes.”

    “Fuck!”

    Creighton began kicking his legs uselessly against the floor. The trunk of the creature, still coiled around one thigh, was inching upwards. In fact, while its arms stayed fast upon his waist, the main palm of the thing was moving down, as if intending to meet its other half. Nothing about its slow and methodical movements spoke of danger to Pate, and now he was more curious than anything. Curious and gleeful, because watching Creighton wear himself out having his tantrum was entertainment you couldn’t pay for.

    It was difficult to catch the action beneath Creighton’s layers of clothing. His cape was pushed off to the side somewhat, but between the bobbing forms of the beasts and his layered skirts whatever was happening to him was lost to Pate. He could hear the way Creighton’s raging pitched all of a sudden, and he could see the excitement in the animals, but the exact actions remained a mystery.

    “How goes the battle?”

    “It’s- wha’ th’ fuck-!”

    He tore at the creature wildly, thrashing his whole body so hard Pate was sure he’d be black and blue the next day. Then Pate saw it. As the creature’s head began to again settle at the small of Creighton’s back, there was a pale flash where it had left, just a moment, but Pate would recognize that scarred buttock anywhere. It had eaten a hole in his trousers. His braies were thin linen and easily torn – something Pate knew from personal experience – and there was little else to protect him between thigh and waist. It was likely they had turned their attentions here since eating through cloth was simpler than eating through chainmail, but the humor of the situation did not escape him.

    Then the thing’s tail end slid directly between Creighton’s legs and Creighton howled.

    “Oh my, looks like you may have a problem there.”

    Creighton did not appreciate his commentary. Giving up on tearing it from his person he instead attempted to squirm away from the building pressure at his back, clawing at the rocks in an attempt to break free. Pate had seen Creighton wild before, as it was a fairly common occurrence when things didn’t go quite his way, but there was a fearful edge here that was a rare delight to witness. Whatever it was attempting, he was terrified by it.

    “Fuck, fuck-!”

    Grabbing a handful of stones Creighton smashed haphazardly at the creature, twisting back to try and get at it between his legs. They rolled together like snakes mating, his thighs kicking up a spray of fetid mold as its body surged in close. There was something pale protruding from it now, probing at him proboscis like. Pate folded his hands beneath his chin. Some kind of phallus?

    “See, this is what happens when you don’t listen,” he said dully, as if he were watching Creighton recover from a stubbed toe, “I’ve told you again and again you can’t trust your instincts, yet here we are.”

    Creighton responded with an unintelligible yell, and then the thing hit home. Forcing up between his buttocks, there was a wet squelch as the organ began to push inside him. Creighton yelped hoarsely, trying to grab at it to pull it out of him, but the creature was undeterred. For a moment it seemed as though it were no longer moving after it breached him, but then Pate noticed how Creighton continued to twist and screech and realized that it was producing more from inside itself, now that it had a safe connection. It held Creighton tightly and pushed its organ from inside its own sheath directly to his warm and welcoming body. He was desperate now, his gloves sparking where they scrabbled uselessly against the rock in his attempts to pull himself away from the building pressure inside.

    Pate could have jumped down and slain them, now that they were distracted. He could have, but he didn’t. While he was at some distance he could gauge the size of the organ and knew Creighton was in no serious danger. It wasn’t quite larger than a human’s cock, though certainly of a more flexible material. Oozing some kind of fluid, a lubricant, which bubbled out around Creighton’s hole the more it pushed inside him, and even from his perch he could hear the wet sucking sound it made as his body swallowed more and more of its length. It was only a half-minute or so before it ceased, in the span of which Creighton’s furious shouts had turned high and whining. When it finally stopped he seemed almost shocked by it, and both he and the monster were still for a moment. It was too dark to make out but Pate could imagine, easily, the glistening pink of Creighton’s stretched hole around the creature.

    “…Get it off.”

    His voice was barely audible, a distinct change from his earlier bellowing, but Pate caught it. Still, he said, “I’m sorry? What was that?”

    Creighton was face down in the sludge but he was sure Pate was smirking at him.

    “Get it offa me!”

    “Hm.” Pate crossed his legs delicately.

    “I could, but it seems rather dangerous. After all, if you couldn’t best these things, what makes you think I could?”

    He rested his chin on his palms and sighed.

    “Unless, of course, you were wrong.”

    Creighton was fuming. If it weren’t for their positions he would likely have already been tearing at Pate’s throat, but as it was he had little means to make himself appear threatening.

    “Suck piss, you waste of skin!”

    He likely had more to say, but the moment of reprieve was over. The creature on his back shifted, gripping him tighter, and then Creighton began to squirm again.

    “H-hey!”

    A smooth, bulbous protrusion had exited the creature’s body and slid down its shaft to meet Creighton’s ass. About the size of a closed fist, the knot began to push at Creighton’s muscle insistently while the organ around it pulsed in organic rhythm. He jerked and kicked, managing to get up onto his knees, chest to the ground, but wherever he went the creature followed, so deep inside him he couldn’t shake it. With his hips now raised Pate could easily see Creighton’s cock where it hung, half hard. He laughed out loud.

    “So this is why you don’t want my help, hm?”

    “Sh-shut up!”

    Creighton crawled a pace and then one of the other creatures circled around in front, blocking his path. He tried to swing at it but ended up only hitting air as another pulse within him shot deep. It had been leaking something inside him since it first poked in and now it was practically pouring, hot and heavy in his gut. It tingled something fierce, a sensation not painful but certainly unwanted, sending little shocks up his spine every few seconds, confusing him. His body, unused to having much within it after years of undeath, clenched painfully, but he could expel nothing as the knot continued to plug his ass. It was pushing inside him, slowly, spreading his hole with agonizing care. He could do nothing and it made him furious, and terrified, claustrophobic. It was like being in chains again, a rat in a trap, with nowhere to go to escape the horror.

    It reached the widest point on the knot and Creighton was screaming, angry, grabbing one of the tentacles around his waist so hard it might come apart, and then it popped inside him all at once. The difference in pressure was a heady rush and he was shocked silent yet again as it pushed in, now aided by the clench of his body, as deep as the thing inside him went, then deeper. Pate watched Creighton’s balls tighten, a droplet of pre escaping the head of his dick. The way his hips bobbed up was an easy tell that whatever was inside him was hitting all the right spots. He didn’t have long to rest as another bulb had already begun to descend towards his loosened hole.

    When Creighton felt a second bulge nudge against him he could only moan lowly. It was not a happy sound but he was overwhelmed, still reeling as the first thing inside him rolled against his soft tissues, and now his body was opening more easily to swallow more. The tingling from the fluid had grown stronger as well, perhaps aided by his pounding heartbeat, a strange and heated feeling that made his dick throb hotter than fresh blood. He tried his best to squeeze against the second, but it only made the sensation more powerful when the organ flexed and the shape pushed inside anyways, his ass being worked open wider with every pulse. Not wanting it to go any further he strained against it, curling his hands into shaking fists with the effort. It worked, but as a double edged sword. His push back and the organ’s force warred with one another for a painful second that kept the weight directly against his prostate, rocking with each clench. It was such a powerful burst of pleasure that his eyes rolled up a second and every part of him failed, letting the bulb sink deep inside him to meet its fellow.

    The third went in quicker than the first two, pushing in with a satisfying squelch of fluids. Pate was almost disappointed when the creature, finished, pulled back and detached its long organ from his backside. Creighton dropped like a stone, breath heaving in his chest. His cock was hard and throbbing between his legs, glistening as the creature’s juices dribbled down from his asshole. It was quite the sight, and Pate wondered if he’d suffer any ill effect from pumping his own seed in along with it.

    He did not have long to ponder. As Creighton was beginning to regain his ability to move, one of the previously passive creatures began to approach. The effects of the poison that had blinded him seemed to be wearing off, because he caught this one’s movement faster and rolled onto his side, scrabbling for his axe.

    “Oh no, not this time, ya- shit-!”

    So distracted was he by the first he missed the second, which he’d rolled right into, and the creature sprung against him. He elbowed back at it lamely, his other hand trying to squeeze between it and cover his backside, but there was already another pale appendage prodding him there.

    “Ahh!”

    He could only cry out briefly before it pushed between his fingers. Creighton grunted loudly, grabbing at it and trying to pull it back out from inside him, but the creature was stronger and his hands slipped and lost purchase. On his side like this he was fully exposed to Pate now, who watched with great interest as another bulge, an egg most likely, emerged from the creature’s abdomen. Creighton, still grasping at the organ, pinched it just before the thing got down to him, laughing jaggedly.

    “Not this time, punk bastard! I’ve got ya!”

    He egg pushed against his fingers, but his hand had much more strength than his ass, and it couldn’t break his hold. Creighton was laughing exhaustedly, his arm shaking where he held it. Pate wondered when he’d realize the creature was likely going to outlast him. He didn’t have to wait to find out, however, because when it realized it was making no headway it had its own solution. Creighton’s laughter turned into gasping as the thing constricted around his chest, both impeding his ability to breathe and making the pressure inside his belly worsen tenfold.

    Creighton wriggled like a fish, trying to keep his hold on the egg to stop its progression, but soon it was too much to bear. Tearing his hands away he grasped at the arms around him, doing his best to let air into his lungs again, and they obliged, because the moment he let go of its ovipositor it pushed and as he took a deep gulp of breath another heavy weight sank inside him. He groaned lowly, holding his stomach, which Pate could see had grown somewhat distended. Another bulge was already testing his shot muscle.

    “S…stop it.”

    Pate knew Creighton could see him now, or at least the outline of him, so he made a big show of leaning in to cup a hand around his ear.

    “Was that an admission of weakness?”

    Creighton made a sound that might have once been a growl, bowing his back outwards was the next egg popped past the rim of his hole, beating against his swollen prostate. Pate had counted five eggs so far, with another on the way. He must have been stuffed at this point.

    “Just get down here an- an-!”

    “Ah-ah-ah, I think I deserve an apology here.”

    One of the other creatures was becoming impatient, nudging at the one still pushing eggs into Creighton with its own sex, wanting a turn. Creighton tried to bat it away.

    “Fuck your apology!”

    He doubled over as the creature in his ass pulled out and was immediately replaced. Whining loudly, he tried again to get on his hands and knees, but he couldn’t do much more than roll onto his stomach, which did nothing to alleviate the pressure. He reached beneath himself to cushion his stomach, unsure of how else to stop the growing pain as he was bloated with another egg.

    “Pate!”

    “I’ve had to listen to your bitching all day,” said Pate primly, “without a single thank you for all the effort I’ve put in to keeping your sorry soul safe and sane.”

    Creighton pawed the ground, his hips bucking when the next egg took a little too long to settle, crammed against the others in his now crowded gut. His ass burned, so hot and wet and full, and all he could think about was making it stop. His cock was so hard it hurt, trembling against his thigh where it was trapped between him and the unforgiving earth.

    “We repeat this pattern, day after day. I know you might find it hard to keep track of with that pea sized brain of yours, but, please, try to think straight for one moment.”

    His mask was filling with drool and snot, pooling at the bottom and dripping out the holes. He could hardly breathe, sweat from the exertion of simply staying sane making his clothes damp and heavy.

    “All I want is two little words,” said Pate, looking down at Creighton from his perch with the poise of a queen. He was so glutted now that the next egg could hardly fit past his hole, pausing there as he strained as best he could to either expel or accept it because the stretch on his rim was agonizing. Licking spittle off his teeth, Creighton tried to raise his head.

    “Ah- I-“

    He was going to cum, and that was the worst of it, because he didn’t want to and it hurt and Pate would never let him forget it if he got off to a beast jamming him full of its spawn.

    “C’mon,” he was begging, fried, “P-Pate- I- I’m sorry!”

    Pate cocked his head.

    “Say it again.”

    “I’m-!”

    Creighton couldn’t say it again, because the egg pushed in and sat there like a stone on his abused gland and he came. His hips banged against the stone floor, humping nothingness, the sensation so animal he could do nothing but rage and cry at it. Pate’s smile turned his eyes up at the corners.

    “Alright, good enough.”

    Pistoning his feet off the cliff face he leapt gracefully down towards them, impaling the creature to Creighton’s left with a single neat strike. The blade cut straight through its soft flesh, coming out between the circular mandibles and knocking a few teeth loose on its way to the ground where it stuck true in the rock and gave him leverage to turn his decent into a vault, swinging over Creighton’s doubled over form to land behind the mess. The ones who’d already deposited their load were sluggish and confused, turning to the sound of his spear disengaging from his kill’s corpse over him landing. Bracing the polearm by his side, Pate charged forward and pushed through one at the trunk and directly into the next, pinning one of its arms caught wrong to its jaw with a burst of black blood.

    The one he’d caught in the supporting arm was not put down, and it twisted to face him with a high screech. He barely managed to duck as it spat a glob of viscous funk at him. Planting his shield squarely on the ground he dropped his hold on his spear and pushed forwards like a battering ram. He hit the creature hard, stumbling through one of the black pools but not stopping, ramming it back until both it and the one he’d pinned it to met the wall with a loud crunch. It’s shrieking continued, flailing against his shield with a strength he couldn’t have expected, but Pate held fast, digging his boots in and redoubling his efforts.

    It popped like a bug. The blood smelled as noxious as the venom it spit at him earlier, spraying out the sides of his great shield and onto the corners of his armor not protected by it. With a great release of breath he pulled back, admiring the squirming remains, and retrieved his spear.

    Creighton was half on his side, still being pumped full by the final living abomination. Pate sauntered up to him, tapping his shield on the ground to shake loose a bit of flesh.

    “P-Pate…”

    Two handing his spear, Pate skewered the creature from tail to crown. Flexing hard he pulled back and ripped it away from Creighton, who hollered as it detached from his ass roughly. It fell back into another pond with a splash.

    “Have we learned our lesson?”

    Creighton said nothing, moving slowly at his feet. Pate crouched down, smiling.

    “Poor thing. They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

    “Damn it…”

    Creighton’s eyes were wet and shining. Pate reached out and stroked some of his matted hair back to clear his face.

    “Come on then, let’s get you cleaned up.”

    “You bastard!”

    Creighton smacked his hand away, shifting onto his back.

    “You could’a helped me an you didn’t!”

    Pate was undeterred, pulling at him again to sit him upright.

    “It would have done neither of us good if I had been subdued as well.”

    “You knew it’d happen an you let it! Bastard!”

    He lashed out at Pate weakly and then regret it, curling in on his distended stomach with a groan as Pate held him up.

    “I didn’t make you do anything, Creighton. You chose to come down here, against my better judgement. You did this to yourself.”

    Creighton shook his head violently but could say nothing, gritting his teeth through the churning inside him. With a loving sigh, Pate stroked his shoulder.

    “Well, we’d better get you somewhere safe.”

    Confused and petulant, Creighton tugged his arm away from him.

    “No.”

    Pate gave him a long suffering look.

    “Those eggs need to come out, Creighton. Would you rather do it here and risk more of those things finding us?”

    “No!”

    “Then we’ll need to move.”

    Creighton sat awkwardly on his haunches and looked at his hands.

    “Well?”

    With a nervous slowness Creighton arose, bracing his hands on his knees. He stank of sweat and fear, and Pate fought back the urge to lick him. When he was finally on his feet he stood bow legged and shaking, hands around his middle. Pate clapped him on the back just to watch him tense.

    “Good show. Honestly, if you keep those fresh back to Majula, they’ll likely net us a pretty penny. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

    Creighton cradled his stomach with both hands, eyes to the ground. Pate walked to where Creighton’s axe lay and hauled it over his shoulder. When he looked back Creighton was staring up into the black void above them with concern creasing his face, as if he couldn’t fathom the distance they’d travelled. Pate didn’t envy his position. The trip through the Gutter had been hard enough on fresh legs, but Creighton was hardly able to walk on flat ground now. It was a delightful prospect. While he was distracted with his thoughts Pate took the opportunity to adjust his erection unnoticed.

    Since he’d cleared out the pools there wasn’t much in their path. Pate took point again, mostly out of habit, and Creighton waddled along behind him. He did not actually expect them to make it back to Majula before Creighton broke. In fact, he was not expecting Creighton to have chosen to move anywhere at all. Every now and then he’d stumble and curse, or on occasion go dead silent and stiff. The pace was slow because of this, which Pate was tempted to comment on, but he refrained. Pushing Creighton too far would sour the milk beyond salvaging. There was a delicate balance to caring for Creighton, one that required knowing when to back off. He wouldn’t spoil the fun now.

    In a thirty minute journey that should have taken five, they found themselves near a flat plane of rock surrounded by a multitude of oddly sized caves. Normally this would be a sign of infestation but Pate had been living around beasts for as long as he could remember and there was a dryness to the holes that said otherwise. Normally animals, undead or not, left refuse about their shelter; leftover meals, bits of fur or scales, shed carapaces, scat. Here it didn’t appear anything had made use of the passages in a long time, the moss clinging to the damp stone undisturbed. It was as good a place as any.

    He considered holding Creighton back, as he was in no position to avoid death at the moment, but Pate let him decide what to do with himself as he set the axe he’d been carrying down soundlessly and brought his spear and shield up. Uncharacteristically subdued, Creighton remained by it, unwilling to squat down to pick it up but not sure how else to retrieve it. Pate made his way to the wall, poking his spear into the first cave curiously. The darkness had given it the illusion of depth, but up close he realized most of the holes were less caves than shallow depressions in the rock, perhaps able to be sat in by a grown man but not offering much shelter.

    “What’re you…”

    Creighton was shifting from foot to foot. Pate glanced at him briefly as he moved to the next indentation, tapping at the wall to test it.

    “It’s called showing care, Creighton. You’d do well to learn from my example.”

    Again Creighton said nothing, breathing heavily in the dead air. Pate closed his eyes for a moment and savored the silence before poking his head into another opening. This one was much larger than the others, albeit low. They seemed to be gaining length as they progressed, though caused by weather, wear, or living means he could not say. As he moved further away Creighton’s breathing seemed to increase in harshness.

    “Ey, ah,” Creighton again spoke, clearly becoming agitated, “when are we gonna get out of this place?”

    “In a hurry, are we?”

    Pate only had to bend somewhat to look into the next one, noting with some satisfaction how the cavern widened inside. Without waiting for his companion Pate made his way through the entrance, scaling the short incline and discovering the back third of the cave carved out entirely, opening up to a significant drop on the other side. This wasn’t as dangerous as it sounded, for there was a nice portion of land that was flat and smooth, obviously well-worn at some point or other, and the ventilation meant it was safe to light up a fire. He hadn’t been keen on drawing attention to them in such a manner before, but he doubted much would be interested in them enough to scale a straight vertical scale just to investigate.

    “Hey,” said Creighton from outside, and his voice had pitched slightly, “C’mon…”

    “No, you come on,” said Pate, already drawing tinder from his pack, “I’m in here.”

    There was no reply. Pate assumed nothing, more focused on getting his little fire going. The entire process took several minutes and when he was done Creighton had still not moved. Leaving his shield, Pate pulled himself up and moved back into the main room where Creighton stood, unchanged from how he’d left him.

    “You can spend the night there, but I personally wouldn’t want to.”

    Creighton looked from side to side anxiously and said nothing. Pate huffed.

    “Creighton. Come here.”

    Then Creighton looked at him with wild eyes and said, “I can’t.”

    Pate had to swallow, salivating.

    “What do you mean, you can’t?”

    With considerable effort to school his voice that did not wholly succeed, Creighton shrugged uncomfortably and repeated, “I can’t.”

    His stance was bowed, knees together as if he desperately had to urinate. Pate supposed the pressure was somewhat similar, though honestly he had largely forgotten how it felt to have such base urges. Undeath had its blessings. Pacing up to Creighton with a wide legged ease that contrasted sharply the deep concern with which he painted his face, Pate opened his arms questioningly.

    “Why ever not?”

    Creighton looked up at him with an eye full of fire, but it was only half malice. The other half was a quivering, panicked embarrassment, something Pate had never seen cross his features before, and it filled his lungs with joy.

    “They’re movin’,” said Creighton.

    “Ah.”

    Pate put his hands on his hips and pretended to consider their situation.

    “Well, come out of the open at least.”

    Creighton glared at him and Pate sighed.

    “Do you want me to carry you?”

    “No!”

    He took a stumbling step and then stopped, squeezing his eyes shut.

    “Are you sure?”

    “Bloody hell!”

    Arduously he pushed on, grunting and groaning until he passed under the short overhang and into the space Pate had made. By now the fire was alive and well, and the cave had warmed some, even with the open walls. Having accomplished his herculean task Creighton collapsed on his knees, moaning horribly.

    “Auh, fuck.”

    He crawled the last few steps up to the bonfire, determination making a fool out of him for Pate’s amusement. When he reached a stop he stayed there, on all fours, a position most inviting. Very, very slowly, he lowered his bottom down onto his heels and sat like that, panting.

    “They need to come out, don’t they?”

    Pate crouched easily next to him, flaunting his intact mobility. Creighton might have been drooling, or crying – something dripped from his face into a little puddle on the floor.

    “I don’t wanna,” he rasped, childish in his fear. Pate reached under him and, for the first time, felt out his gut. It was indeed bloated, only giving slightly when he pressed his fingers against the bulge. Creighton immediately recoiled.

    “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” He fell back and pulled himself away, shielding his belly with one arm while the other searched for his missing axe. “I’ll kill you if ya touch me like that again!”

    “They’re going to come out eventually,” said Pate, “one way or another.”

    Creighton spat through his teeth, drawing his knees in tight.

    “Whaddaya’ mean!”

    “Well,” Pate crept closer again, backing Creighton to the wall, “either by gravity’s will or by their own, if they hatch.”

    The thought clearly hadn’t occurred to Creighton before that the weights inside him might do something other than sit there and bother him. His eyes narrowed as he tried to comprehend the possibility, unsure if Pate were taking advantage of his lack of schooling.

    “I ain’t a,” he struggled for words, “a bug, I can’t birth bugs.”

    “Normally, yes, but in this case it’s likely the eggs were already fertilized and are just using you as an incubator.”

    Creighton stared at him, frustration beginning to show. He didn’t like being confronted with his own ignorance. Pate tried to accommodate.

    “They need a warm place to grow, Creighton, but they’re already alive. Once they’ve reached a mature enough state to hatch I assume you’ll make a nice first meal as well.”

    Flustered, Creighton snarled.

    “Like hell I will! I’ll kill ‘em first!”

    Pate stared at him.

    “How?”

    “I don’t know, I…” Pate was half hoping Creighton would punch himself in the gut. Instead he looked at Pate with big animal eyes and Pate realized he was, in that brutish way, being asked for help.

    “There’s nothing I can give you,” he said, shrugging, “you’ll just have to pop them out.”

    “I don’t-!” he started again, and then slumped over his gut in anguish, till his helm nearly touched the earth. Pate tutted softly, coming over to rub at Creighton’s back with pseudo concern.

    “Poor, poor Creighton,” he soothed, “don’t you worry about a thing in that empty little head of yours. I’ll help you out of your mistake. Just don’t come to expect this preferential treatment every time you fall into a pit of snakes.”

    “They weren’t snakes,” Creighton wheezed.

    This time when Pate manhandled him he didn’t protest, even as he was bodily dragged from the wall. It took some coaxing to get him to position himself but he eventually acquiesced, refusing to meet Pate’s eyes the entire time as he carefully squatted with his back to the fire and leaned down to rest his face in his arms, chest down and ass up. The light was still dim at best but now that Pate could really see him for the first time in their whole misadventure he could clearly make out the dried flecks of Creighton’s own semen down one thigh. Once they were all situated Pated delicately folded his legs beneath himself for a comfy seat and got to work.

    The back of Creighton’s dress was wet, not just damp from the floor. When he peeled it and the accompanying chain skirt away it was obvious why. The fluid that had been so gratuitously pumped into his ass earlier was leaking out, barely held in by Creighton’s efforts. He could actually see the way his hole quivered as another rivulet bubbled out and trailed down the back of his balls, thick and opalescent. Not interested in ruining his best gloves Pate stripped them off, working his fingers a moment in the cool air. Creighton’s hips trembled.

    “Are you gonna do something or just sit there and gawk?”

    Pate chuckled, setting his other glove aside as well.

    “Would you rather I simply jumped in with no preparation?”

    Not quite settled by that, Creighton sneered, imitating him in a small voice. Given how Pate was positioned, it was much more humorous than it should have been. It was, however, nothing compared to the jump Creighton gave when Pate pressed a smooth finger against his reddened hole.

    This was not the first time they had been in a similar position. Pate had, one way or another, gotten into Creighton’s trousers on more than one occasion during the course of their acquaintance. Creighton, while not particularly interesting in seeking out sexual gratification himself, had been brought it in excess at Pate’s hands, and, had he been smarter, would likely have been a bit wary of the integrity of their position now, but as little as he trusted Pate the creeping resignment that had been carefully crafted over time within his heart made him accept the fact that Pate knew what was best for the both of them and the quickest way to alleviate his pain was to simply follow through. It wasn’t so much that he did not enjoy their coupling as it was a trial every time, with Pate’s strange form of command keeping him confused and on edge the entirety of it. Unfortunately, his body was beginning to sense the pattern in their activities and now, as Pate tenderly swirled his finger around the sensitive muscle, he found himself immediately shocked with the urge to submit.

    It made him angry.

    “You’re going to need to relax,” Pate said, still circling his tender hole. It would have been teasing normally, but at this stage of his need it was maddening. The pressure in his gut wanted out, but Creighton felt an odd sickness at the thought of releasing it, as if he were about to do something incredibly shameful. Modesty was a concept he wasn’t fully savvy to so the prospect of being truly embarrassed by his body was almost as worrying as what he was asked to do itself. Though Pate’s gentle prodding weakened his resistances he still chewed what was left of his lips behind his mask, holding his ground.

    “We won’t get anywhere like this, you know,” Pate continued to coo, “Don’t you want to get them out? Aren’t they heavy inside?”

    With that he grabbed at Creighton’s stomach again, this time far more firmly, pushing down hard, and Creighton’s head shot up as he barked in rage.

    “I said not ta-!”

    Pate kept pressing and, with his other hand, screwed his index finger in his ass up to the second knuckle. Creighton blanched, not prepared for the dueling sensations, and dropped back down with a gurgle. Pate hadn’t needed to go far to find the first solid bulge inside him, pressing dangerously close to his still alert prostate.

    “There we go, easy now.”

    The hand on his stomach turned from strict pressure to an easier stroking, as if that would calm him. With the pad of his finger Pate pressed into the egg experimentally, seeing if it would give. While it did, slightly, the movement knocked it against those crammed deeper, setting off a chain reaction of shifting that made Creighton hiss.

    “C’mon, Pate, don’t!”

    “Just checking.”

    He removed his finger and another burst of liquid escaped him, splashing across the ground between them. His immediate reaction was to flex shut, holding it in, but Pate pushed up on his stomach in warning.

    “Let it out, Creighton.”

    This time it was an order. Half of him resented that, because no one gave Creighton of Mirrah orders, and the other half resented himself for almost immediately complying. It was difficult to circumvent his natural instincts, but with Pate’s soft voice droning coaxing words against his back and his hands, smooth and clean as a noblewoman’s, kneading against his gut, Creighton found himself relaxing into the movements, and, not without pause, letting his trembling legs loosen.

    There wasn’t much of the fluid left that wasn’t deeper down. The urge to clench shut when he let out another dribble of it was pressing, so he clenched his fists instead. Pate hummed happily, fingering the rim of his asshole open on occasion to facilitate. Then, just as he was becoming used to the feeling, the lumps in his gut began to move.

    “Sh-shit!” he said, tensing up again all at once, but Pate continued to massage him both within and without, shushing him.

    “Good, let it come.”

    Even if he tried he couldn’t have stopped himself at that point. He contracted hard and the egg pushed down to his hole, the added squeeze heightening his unwanted pleasure. His ass puckered outward, flexing with his breath, and then the egg began to crown.

    “Oh hell,” he near sobbed, because he had been cut by sword and claw alike, had been beaten and spit on and dragged from the haunches of a horse since he was born and yet this bizarre and obscene thing was overwhelming him.

    “That’s right,” said Pate, squeezing handfuls of his bony rump, “keep pushing.”

    They’d entered him so fast, aided by the powerful force behind the things that put them there, but when it was all him it became suddenly terrifying. His ass burned as it stretched, the eggs behind the first all settling down as well, jostling for exit, wider and wider until he was sure he should be breaking but he wasn’t and it was still pushing. Then, with another blindingly powerful contraction, it popped loose, rolling to a stop at Pate’s knees. The relief was barely able to settle in his stomach before a second slid to take its place, equally large and ravaging.

    Pate picked up the egg and examined it. Despite the soft creatures they’d come from they were surprisingly hard, not quite as a birds egg but more than a lizards. While not opaque it was difficult to see the little being inside in the darkness, only a vague shadow floating in emerald ripples. Creighton began hyperventilating again and Pate looked down in time to catch the second egg as it was released with considerably more force. His body must have doubled down on the process, because he was grinding his mask into the pebbled ground, trying to slow his breathing as his hole winked open wide enough for him to see Creighton’s reddened insides and the next black shape among them.

    “How many of these did you say there were?” asked Pate, rubbing his finger up and down Creighton’s slick perineum. Creighton gasped wetly, gnashing his teeth.

    “I don’t know!”

    The third egg pushed to nearly its widest point before he clenched involuntarily and it was sucked back inside. He moaned furiously and scratched at his gauntlets.

    “With that attitude you won’t be done here any time soon,” said Pate calmly.

    He tried again, squeezing down and focusing, but it was nigh impossible when the others churned along with it, still so deep. There was no relief to the torment, no spot untouched, and when they moved everything burned, so all-consuming that he wanted to scream and tear out his own stomach. But he didn’t, and he couldn’t, and the egg breached to its widest before he lost strength and had to pause again with it stuck there, bobbing just within his asshole. Pate fluttered his fingers around it, testing the stretch.

    “Pate,” he panted, “j’us pull it out!”

    “I can’t,” Pate quipped, “it’s too slippery. You wouldn’t want me to accidentally push it back in, would you?”

    Creighton groaned painfully and squeezed. It came out slow, clinging to the drying gunk that caked the inside of his thighs as he finally plopped down between his legs. Shuddering, he slumped, his knees barely holding his ass up.

    “I know the first one laid three,” Pate mused as he watched Creighton’s hips stiffen again, given no rest, “if the other two did about the same then you’re a third of the way done.”

_Wonderful_ , Creighton thought, but did not say, because his mouth was currently dropped open in a soundless moan of dread when the fourth rocked against his prostate, taking its time now that the pressure inside him had lessened somewhat. It was blindingly good, made more so when Pate began to slide his hand down the underside of Creighton’s straining cock.

    “Stop it,” he groused, unable to rouse more aggression than that.

    “But you’re so hard,” Pate said, fondling the head.

    “I don’ wanna be!”

    “And yet you are.”

    He dragged his hand back up to Creighton’s balls, giving him a little squeeze. Creighton hiccupped and the egg poked forth.

    Pate had gathered all the eggs up into a dimple in the rock away from the action. With the light glancing off them they really were quite exotic looking, almost jewels. He had assumed they would hawk them for food, but now he was getting other ideas. If they remained unhatched long enough, there was the possibility that he would be making off with a lot more than initially expected, a thought that added frosting to the cake. He didn’t need the money, but it never hurt to have, and it might sweeten things between him and his squirming friend when this was over. He might get him a new pair of sandals, or a pretty ring. Maybe not even for his finger.

    Creighton moaned loudly when the egg slipped loose, and before his hole could even fully close another came close behind it, immediately working his ass open again to accommodate its movement. They came easier now, and when he’d voided both Pate hooked both index fingers inside Creighton’s ass and stretched him wide, watching his innards pulse.

    “Hm, you don’t look as full now. You must be close to finished.”

    “God,” Creighton whimpered, “don’t-!”

    As Pate held him agape another egg slide out. Instead of removing his fingers to ease its passage Pate simply tugged him wider, manually forcing it free now that he had become so elastic. Creighton was still growling and pawing but it sounded a lot more like groveling, his throat scraped raw.

    “Tha’s enough,” he pleaded, trying to look at Pate over his shoulder, “stop it!”

    “And let my brave knight become food for some stinking maggots? I think not.”

    He toyed two fingers inside Creighton as the next egg descended, enamored with the way his rim had gone from dusty pink to deep red over the course of the hour. Lunging away from him in a surprising feat of second wind, Creighton tried to sit up.

    “I said stop!”

    Pate, fresh on his feet, was faster. He grabbed Creighton around the middle, pinning an arm behind his back when he clawed, and dragged them together, back to chest.

    “Here, let their weight do its part.”

    The new angle had Creighton vertical and he would have kicked and screamed at being mistreated so if he wasn’t already bucking his hips out like a whore in heat when suddenly the pressure was back, harder than ever, riding his tender spots for all their worth.

    “Fu- I can’t-!”

    His free arm reached back to pull on Pate’s armor, but it was less an assault than an attempt to cling to something. Pate grabbed his stomach harshly now, pressing in to where he could feel the remaining lumps and likely leaving a pretty bruise in the process.

    “There we are, just a few more left.”

    Creighton tried to head-butt him and only hit the guard of his helm, raging and sore. His cock bounced between his legs, purpled and twitching on its own, and then he struggled to breathe as he tried to close his thighs and another egg pushed out of him with a wet plop.

    He came, knees knocking together, almost entirely untouched, an arc of cum surprising in its volume splattering the floor and wall of the little cave. Everything was pulsing and thrumming in time with his heartbeat, which was now located in the aching centrum of his ass. Creighton collapsed back onto Pate’s shoulder, still trembling, eyes rolling in his skull when the stimulation wouldn’t cease.

    “Good boy, just two more.”

    Pate kissed the side of his mask tenderly. Creighton wanted to hit him.

    “No.”

    “You’re doing so well.”

    “It’s too much…”

    He pushed hard on his belly and Creighton cried out, the final eggs pulling down, down.

    “Don’t!”

    Pate’s hold on his pinned arm was terribly strong, muscles bruising in his grip. Had he the time or the mind he might have been concerned.

    “There,” said Pate, scissoring fingers around his spent cock, “almost there.”

    The egg was breaching, solid and awful as he weakly urged it to leave him be. It dropped like a rock and the final one, the terror it was, dragged across every nerve like it resented its birth. He couldn’t cum anymore but his balls drew tight anyways, aching, and his head fell to his chest and he shuddered with quiet orgasmic sobs. With a final spurt of fluids it plopped free and he drained of all life like sand from a bag.

    “Good boy,” Pate released him, turning him over to lay on his back beside the mess with perfect care, “good, good boy.”

    Creighton anguished in his betrayer of a body, doped on his release as Pate packed away the eggs one by one in his satchel, wiping each down by the light of the fire. It took bare seconds but he was almost asleep when again he was being touched and positioned. Cracking a bloodshot eye open Creighton stared as Pate put both his legs against his shoulder guards, sliding between them with a small smile.

    “What’re ’ya doin’.”

    He was too tired to make his tone questioning. Pate looked down at him, the light of the fire at his back shadowing his face entirely.

    “Well, you don’t think I give favors for free?”

    His dick was solid against Creighton’s inner thigh. After the indignity of everything he could only stare, lost for his usual ferocity.

    “You mother fucker…”

    “Mm.”

    Creighton’s hole had dipped out slightly after the last few eggs, muscles too weary to tighten again, and he poked his fingers down to push him back in a bit. Creighton’s head rolled back with a noise neither of them could quite place.

    “Don’t worry,” said Pate as he kissed the head of his cock to Creighton’s swollen hole, “you’ve given me quite the show. I’ll be quick.”

    Compared to the sheer size of the eggs he could hardly feel Pate, but simply knowing he was inside was enough to make Creighton pant open mouthed. Pate held his legs back and snapped his hips in and out sharply, relishing in each disgustingly lewd noise Creighton’s abused orifice produced. He was wetter than any clunge Pate had sank in, softened by brutalization, as pliable and submissive as a cocksleeve.

    “They really hollowed you out, didn’t they?”

    Pate slapped their hips together hard, letting Creighton feel through his force rather than girth the depth of his ardor.

    “Left you a sad and sopping whore for me.”

    He was used to Creighton being unresponsive. Even at the height of passion he preferred to lay flat and stiff, looking into nothing with the eyes of a corpse. It’s what made his current pliability so special.

    “It’ll be days before you close up, if you ever really do.”

    His pace increased, but his gaze never left Creighton’s as placid as ever.

    “I wonder if these failures all add to one conclusion.”

    His pulse was pounding in his ears.

    “Maybe you were never meant to be a warrior at all, no, maybe we’ve found your true calling here. A warm place to store seed, a bitch on a leash.”

    He tried to cup Creighton’s now empty stomach again, but his bounding thrusts made it hard as they swayed together.

    “I think it’s true, you were meant for, for…”

    He trailed off, eyes closed, and a moment later Creighton realized the heat he felt inside now was Pate’s orgasm. He kept up tempo the entire time, until he’d fully emptied himself, the climax he’d been building to for some time now almost secondary to the pleasure he’d already received from Creighton’s deconstruction. With a heady sigh Pate finally slumped away, his dick easily slipping out of Creighton’s wrecked ass. His puffy, protruding hole drooled cum.

    Pate took his time coming back to himself. He was glowing, and as he began to wipe down his armor with a kerchief from his pocket he began to hum. Creighton couldn’t see him, half on the edge of unconsciousness now, but his pride wouldn’t let him rest just yet. Though it took a few tries he managed to wet his tongue and said, “Meant for what?”

    Not pausing in his tune, Pate was puttering about in his bag with something.

    “Pardon?”

    Creighton managed to roll onto his side, away from the fire, shielding his head with one arm. His head was throbbing, probably from dehydration.

    “You said I was…” he didn’t bother finishing, unable to quite care. Pate laughed softly and gave him a fond look.

    “Oh, that,” he said.

    “For me.”


End file.
